Skip to main content

Full text of "The Gleaner"

See other formats

Digitized by the Internet Archive 

in 2010 with funding from 

Lyrasis IVIembers and Sloan Foundation 

The Gleaner 

established 1901 

Delaware Valley College of Science and Acjriculture 

Doylestown, Pennsylvania 18901 

Spring 1986 


Cammy Alcorn 
Grace Wells 


Bonnie Anderson 
Missy Brangan 
Jannes Plisco 
Becky Spinnler 


Missy Brangan 

Literary Work 

Cannnny Alcorn 

Missy Brangan 

John C. Buckingham, Jr. 


Maggie Ellis 


Ed Hennessey 

Arthur Hingst 

Peter Klier 

Vicky Mosby 

Kenneth Muckenfuss 

Julie Myers 

James Plisco 

Bob Scot 



Ann Whitesell 



Cammy Alcorn 
Missy Brangan 
Carole Bryan 
Maggie Ellis 
Brian Eshenaur 
Grace V\/ells 


Missy Brangan 
Maggie Ellis 
Laura Etzweiler 
Tracy Pentz 
Becky Spinnler 

The Cleaner is a student publication. Those opinions expressed within are not necessarily those of 
The Gleaner editors. Neither the college nor the editors will assume responsibility for piagarism 
unknowingly occurring within. 

'M!'i 'lil'i'J ' \u\ n 'l■'^;■"'1l''■'^h'■l\■l"S,'i't;iM 

Photo by Missy Brang 

Veil In Stride 

Well I'm no up and comer 
and my life ain't been the best. 
I've taken ivhat I wanted 
and left behind me all the rest. 
I may not be a hero 
on a Luestern sunset ride 
But I am my own person 
and I take it well in stride. 

Now I've been all around this world 

and never left my home. 

iue learned by observation 

the meaning of "to each his own. " 

I've seen all kinds of people, 

some with courage, some with pride 

But each was his own person, 

and they took it well in stride. 

I take it well in stride 

to be the best I can 

And when I choose to let it slide 

I keep it well in hand 

I may not be a saint 

I've got nothing here to hide 

I make my own way day by day 

I take it well in stride. 

James Plisco 

Torn Sail 

You had a choice to make 

and you chose to Lake the wrong stand. 

So now you 're not so sure 

if you 're going to be able to get back up 

on your own two feet again. 

The future is looking darker 

and the consequences prevail. 

The way it looks right now 

you're out floatin' with a torn sail. 

You say you realize that your choice was wrong. 

But that's not going to help you out now, 

while you're inside looking out. 

Waching from behind the glass 

as the world Just passes along. 

It's a little too late to wonder 

and it s too late not to fail. 

You can try to get away 

but you won 't get far on a torn sail. 

I guess you'll Just have to pick yourself up 

and start over again. 

There's little left to lose. 

And who knows you Just might gain some ground. 

You have to live with your decision. 

You can 't go back and change it now. 

Face the music. 

because now it's either swim or drown. 

And if the wind does blow your way 

you might as well know right now. 

A torn sail, 

ain't gonna help you much anyhow. 

Yeah, don't Judge a book by its cover 

until you've read through 

to the end of the tale. 

Because the moral of the story 

says you won 't get far 

if the consequences prevail 

Because the winds of your tomorrow 

are blowin ' on a torn sail. 


Artwork by Laura Etzweiler 

Photo by M.E.M. 

The Truth 

It seems there 's always something 
We 'd rather be by far 
Rarely are we ever pleased 
With who or what we are 

We dream of fame and fortune 
Of luxuries and such 
Sacrificing along the way 
Those things that mean so much 

The key to being happy 
Is not to shoot for stars above 
But reach for realistic dreams 
With someone that you love 

Arthur Hingst 


Our lives are like the seasons, 
We pass through each only once, 
In the spring, We are born, 

It's the dawning of new life. 
In the summer. We are growing 

To find the future ahead. 
In the fall, We have reached our peaks. 

But have not fallen yet. 
In the winter. Our lives come to an end, 

So then other sprouts must take our place. 

James Plisco 


f » 




Photo by Grace Wells 


As the sun shines through the field 
And the world again is real, 
I feel the warmth of fantasy, 
Coming from my dreams. 

As the sun starts the day, 
I feel the longing for gaiety, 
And wish for a festivity. 
To brighten up the gray. 

For a gift of a friendly smile, 

I would walk many a mile, 

Of the toughest terrain yet known to man 

Just to see it for a little while. 

My heart is as a void, 

Where nothing hopes to grow, 

But if I had someone with whom to share my love, 

There would be nothing of sorrow. 

How can I put into words, 

The things I feel inside. 

The yearning for love, the fear of pain, 

In my heart they all reside. 

They wait and abide their time, 
Waiting for someone special to come. 
And change my life to happy times 
So Td no longer need to run 
From my fears, from life itself. 
From sorrow yet to come. 

I wish for only happiness. 

I wish for only love. 

I wish only to make people smile 

But I need help from above, 

To shield me as a glove. 

John C. Buckingham, Jr. 




■■^, •; 



Photo by Cammy Alcorn V >k^ 


Stand tall you beautiful trees 
And show off your colorful array of leaves 
For it is once again that time of year 
When Autumn is again undoubtedly here 

They look so distinguished as their colors unfold 
Like an artist s brushstrokes of orange, red and gold 
Yes this is one of my favorite seasons 
And the trees alone are one of my reasons 

Maggie Ellis 

Artwork by Missy Brangan 

Photo by Brian Eshenaur 

For Christine Marie 


Ry as free as the wild geese, 
Within the midnight sky. 
Ride on the winds of innocence. 
As autumn passes by. 
Shoulder aside the twink'ling stars, 
Your strength of wing's untried. 
Beneath the sil'ury winter's moon, 
The pain s of tears once cried. 

Visions of the eternal quest 
Shall guide the path you steer. 
Needs of shelter, a friend, alone, 
'Till journey 's end draws near. 
Again the geese through Lion fly. 
An age is now undone. 
The flight, alone no longer made, 
For two now fly as one. 


Live In Peace 

Young children of this land, 

Please Hue in peace. 

For if not this experimental generation 

Will soon be deceased. 

Reach out your hands and have a heart 

You are the ones that must find a 

new start. 

Science has brought forth new things 

For the purpose of construction. 

But our technology will bring us 

to total destruction. 

If we shall engage in nuclear war, 

This beautiful world will never, never 

be more. 

So open your eyes and listen to me, 

you must let love and freedom be. 

Young children of the land, please live in peace. 

Julie Myers 



Artwork by Missy Brangan 



Love Is A Mountain 

/ Lrauelled up Loue's Mountain 
Though I did not go that high 
I shouted out my love for you 
But there was no reply 

I travelled down, but then I found 
inspiration once again 
To try to send my message 
To my louer, to my friend 

I started up the Mountain 
As id done so recently 
From fields of endless flowers 
To where there grew no trees 

I came to where Td been before 

And felt that I would stop 

But thoughts of you renewed my strength 

As I travelled to the top 

Finally, high above the clouds 

Where eagles dare to fly 

I stood upon the pinnacle 

Of Love's Mountain, oh, so high 

Silently I wondered 
As I stared across the sky 
Would my true love hear me 
Would there be a reply 

This time emotion gripped me 

So tight I could not speak 

But my heart whispered soft "I Love You" 

The valley s echoed endlessly 

Arthur Hingst 

Under Vater Blues 

All the lines are taken 

all the words have been said 

There seems to be no way to say 

the thoughts that run through my head 

I drown in the words of those 

who wrote the words down first 

Why is it that the words they chose 

are the words for which I thirst 

It seems I have no words of my own to choose 

Or is it Just another case of under water blues? 

Just another fish in the sea 

I struggle to survive 

I fight the vicious rapids 

Just to stay alive 

A boat upon the sea 

A drop of water in a storm 

flowing ever freely 

yet forced to conform 

Can 't seem to keep my head 
It seems the harder I try 
I Just seem to lose myself 

Will I survive? 

Could I really be washed out? 

Could this all be true? 

Or is it Just another case 

of under water blues? 

Bob Scot 

Photo by Maggie Ellis 

The American Farmer 

The American farmer has gotten the short end of the stick. He is an 
indiuidual who not only works a Job, he Hues his Job twenty four hours a day. 
It is a somewhat thankless Job. A type of Job that is more or less behind the 
scenes. He is not well known because he spends so much of his time with his 
land and animals. He doesn 't have time to float around circles of high 
precedence. He has a Job to do and he does it well. Very few other Jobs have 
such an indiuidual so deuoted to his work. Maybe that's because the 
American farmer is one of the select few who can handle this uery specific 
and demanding life. 

It is amazing how the American farmer persists. He refuses to glue up euen 
when the odds are against him. He loues people, animals and the land. 
Farming is not a matter of economics. It is a matter of loue, loue for a way of 
life. It is true that the American farmer can stretch money as far as it can 
possibly go. How else is he to suruiue? Farming has many gambles — most 
of which are uncontrollable. And Just remember, the next time that dish of 
food comes to the table, whose life, loue and labor went into it — The behind 
the scenes indiuidual; "The American Farmer. " 

Kenneth L. Muckenfuss 

Artwork by Tracy Pentz 

Ending The Depression 

There comes a time 

in the heart of all people 

A time to share the love within 

For out in the ivorld we find 

Many that are cold and lonely 

Who strive to be noticed 

But often these poor people 

try too hard to fill their needs 

Relax people — loue comes to everyone. 

Love is something that cannot be made 
It's something that has always existed 
Love comes to those who are patient. 

Many times we try too hard to find love 
and wind up worse than when we started 
This is the time to give up, for now. 
Put those energies into something else 
and love will come when unexpected 
So this has been told to me. 

By thinking and thinking, my friend 
Tue realized that this is very true 
Get on with life, end the depression. 

James Plisco 


Unseen Voice 

You linger through the uacant corridors. 
Entrapped in space, an unconscious choice. 
Frigid the air you leave behind. 
Dwelling within my unconscious mind, 
my unseen voice. 

Cammy Alcorn 

Photo by Brian Eshenaur 

The Jackhammer 

The winds blow over 
The air is getting colder 
The men press my button 

They sit back and lie 

While I'm ready to die 

They laugh in my face. 
The hot summer sun 
Beats down on the cold steel 
It s getting warmer, warmer, 
until it burns up. 
Can I be the one 
to think and feel, 

or must the Jackhammer pound away, 
away, away, away, away, away? 
The men, they stand and stare. 
I'm running out of air 
But I keep going along. 

The noose is getting tighter. 
Well I feel Just like a Jackhammer 
causing all the clamour 
digging the hole 
making my way along the road 

by p-p-p-p-pounding away. 
But I've never knocked it up, 
and I've found, 
going down the line 
That the Jackhammer 
is really a Jackass, 
a Jackass, a Jackass. 
Well I feel like a Jackhammer 
'cause people keep telling me 
to hit the road. 
And I want to stop 
but people keep telling me 
t-t-to hit-t-t-t-t 
the road 

And I feel like a Jackhammer 
cause I Just keep hitting that road. 

Peter Klier 

Artwork by Anonymoua 

/ loue to dream, of a little desert island. 

Far away from society and anxiety. 

I loue to go there often. 

Always in my dreams 

I run along the beach 

And lay in the warm tropical sun. 

Then when I come back, 

Life s a little better, 

problems are easier to solve, 

and I know that at any time I can go back 

without reservations. 

Back to my little desert island. 

Missy Brangan 


Artwork by Mtsay Brangan 

' I ■*•*-■ 'Si 

Alvays Look Up To The Trees 

Well it 's been so rough getting started 

on that long hard road. 

And we may be finally rolling 

but we've still got a long, long way to go. 

The future's looking brighter / 

and the sun is shining through the trees. 

But we still must leave the forest 

We're not quite out of the woods just yet. 

The underbrush is Just below our knees 

Making our own trails, going our own way 

Our dreams are our goals and we 'II make it someday 

All we have to do is believe, 

We may outdo the forest but we'll always look up to the trees 


'i^" V 

"^ ♦ViS^,,. 


0^ ' 


i* V ^'^ 1 

^ ■ 










>""'" -^^ * 

Photo by Grace Wells 

Well we finally outdid the Oakland, 

and we like the lovely things we see. 

Long rolling hills of green grass 

and a promising road with no shelter for you, and me. 

Hey, we finally made the grade, another step, another show. 

But there's a storm growing on the horizon. 

We could survive if we knew we had a place to go. 

Out on our own now, meadows and hills 

Riding the storm out, with no time to kill 

We've finally got a place that we can go. 


Photo by Maggie Ellis 

The Loneliness of Childhood 

NoLU don 7 go in that closet 
Scary il might be 
They were a sweet family 
Little him and louing three. 

Then at age seven 

They said she went to heaven 

The first his heart would ache. 

With cheeks against the window pane 
For his father he would wail 
One dark day Dad didn 't come 
And he was barely eight. 

Grandma hugged and kissed him 
Tried to make him fine 
A nap she took, he couldn 't wake 
And he was only nine. 

'Pack up, ' 'Here 111 wait' 
Stony stared, man from state. 

Now to that closet he did walk 
His heart began to churn 
As he stood in lonely splendor 
And watched the doorknob turn. 

He entered into darkness 

The door then closed again 

He laid down with a heart that smiled 

The day that he was ten. 


Photo by M.E.M. 

The Meaning of Love... 

We need to know the meaning of love 
For it is, indeed, over and above 
The quest for life with which to survive 
To keep our very hearts alive 

Let us please believe in a 

Brotherhood of man 

And Join together 

As part of the plan 

To demonstrate how easy 

Our lives can be 

When we've sincerely succumbed 

To the harmony 

That the happiness 
We can find within 
Is a reflection of 
A belief in Him 

t^aggie Ellis 

/ ■-' \ 



\ / 


1 J 

Artwork by Becky Spinnler 

Artwork by Anonymous 

Vhy I Still Believe 

/ wonder why we are so distant and 
yet I can still remember You 're presence. 
Maybe it s the laughter or a small smile 
Sometimes I believe that what we have 
is forever, only to learn that time never 
stops and we have changed. 

On a cold winter's night my haunting dreams are 

of you. 

It is a needed reassurance of your voice 

for a sign of faith in me. 

The touch of your strong gentle hands. 

A belief in the immortal triumph of the spirit. 

What can be said for friendship that has grown. 

You are the anything and the everything 
You have taken the crazy dreams of the past 
and made them real. 

You say black, I say white . . . Then a burst 
of laughter at our own stubborness 
You are a different breed apart, yet, 
You taught me that being different is the 
best way to be. 

No regrets, no tears, no pity for I shall 
always respect you as a Man. 


Heart's Desire 

The road to true loue is a long and hard one 

it has been traveled many times, 

Seeing many hearts fall to the wayside, 

But there are some hearts that continue; 

Journeying farther down the road, 

Taking the necessary risks and pursuing onward, 

until . . . 

The bends in the road run straight — 

All opposing forces are defeated — 

The sun shines brightly, lighting the way — 

It is those hearts that finish, 

That are truely the strong ones, 
our hearts . . . 

Ed Hennessey 

^^^^^^^^^^^^■' J^M 

Photo by M.E.M. 

Never Again 

Can 't hear the music. 
Can 't see the sky. 
Can 't feel the tears, 
Running from my eyes. 
Why must you be neglected 
From all these precious things, 
Pieuer again to see the trees 
Swaying In the wind, never 
Again to see the dope. 
That killed you my best friend. 

Vicky Mosby 

Artwork by Anonymous 


Frogs have class 

Frogs have style 

They have the capacity to rivet awhile 

They can be edible 

Sometimes forgettable 

They come in various shapes and sizes 

But are basically the same 

Except maybe one 

And that's my husband 

He gave up his crown 

But he'll always be a Prince to me 

And the secret is ours eternally 

Maggie Ellis 

Artwork by Maggie Ellis 

The First Day of School 

/ missed the little baby 

When I met the little boy, 

The trading of a rattle 

For a shiny tinker toy. 

Now standing here before me 

As he goes to shake my hand, 

His arms outstretched politely 

Is my tiny little man. 

I want to hug and kiss him 

But he'll have no more of that. 

He has a world to conquer 

As he tugs his tiny hat. 

He stands in open doorway 

In sunlight bright and grand. 

I can 't see his tiny smile 

Just his waving tiny hand. 

He pets the dog, goes down the lawn 

Then turns to wave again. 

Then hurriedly he carries on 

To meet a tiny friend. 

Now I know he's turned the corner 

And I've missed his last goodbyes, 

But it's hard to see a tiny man 

When you look through misty eyes. 


September 14th 

Remember that night in September, 

When we danced the night away? 

Who would think that we would still be together 

To this uery day. 

Time has gone by quickly 

But yet not much time has passed 

I know my love has grown deeper 

I think this one will last 

You have a special way about you 

That brings a smile to my face every day 

I look forward to Just saying Hello 

Or spending time with you in any way 

You re not only a lover but a friend 
That's really important to me 
I hope I'm the same to you, 
A lover and a friend 

The feeling I get when we are together 
Fills my heart with Joy 
Does your heart feel the same, 
Like you could love no other? 
I want to hold your hand forever 
Your sweet and gentle touch is new 
Please love me like I love you 
I know my love is true! 


Photo by w'^^y 



Artwork by Laura Etzweller 

The Apple Tree 

Do you hear the wind Luhislle through the apple tree? 

Can you believe in the sound it makes? 

The knots of the bark are the testimony to time. 

They have listened to all the old sad stories of every farmer. 

To the Joyous laughter of the farmer's children playing in the high branches 

looking over the land that one day they too shall love. 

Do you see the branches sway in the harsh stormy wind? 

Can you believe they will withstand the beating of this storm? 

The apple strap has beaten many a lesson into the family's son. 

They sweep down to touch the young boy and girl underneath their veil. The 

children watch the world from the tree and they too will prosper and grow as 

does the canopy of the apple tree. 

Can you see the red apples shiny in the early morning sun? 

Can you believe that the fruit of the tree will last? 

They have started with small buds in the early spring and these bright fruits 

on this dusty Autumn Day are a promise of a bright tomorrow. 

"Can you believe another year has passed?" and "yes, I have grown strong 
Just like you, old apple. Because we are one from the same earth. I feed you, 
the eater for you to live, and you give me the strength to live from your 
fruits. " 
Ann Whitesell 

To Be Your Friend 

It was a late night in August. 

So cold and chilling. 

I had so much trust. 

You loued me. or one day was willing. 

I've never been that wrong before, 
feeling so full of fright. 
You've never heard me ask for more. 
Until that very night. 

I could not begin to tell you. 
hiow much you hurt me so. 
I never thought I'd think this. 
But over you I wanted to go. 

. . . ONE YEAR LATER . . . 
Now my love for you has died, 
It 's at the very end. 
All I wanted deep inside. 
Was Just to be your friend. 

All the times you've hurt my heart, 
I simply Just can't mend. 
So now I must find the strength, 
to make a brand new friend. 

The time has come to say goodbye. 
It doesn 't seem all to fair. 
You know I'll always love you, 
We Just don't make a pair. 

. . . ONE YEAR LATER . . . 

You've begged and you've pleaded. 

For me to forgive. 

tiow could I ever love you. 

For it was you, I didn 't want to live. 

I swore I'd never take you back. 
But in your arms I lie. 
No one could ever tear me away. 
I am higher than the sky. 

Loue is a risk. 

Sometimes you feel so blue. 

Loue is a lot of things. 

Not making someone feel tlie way that you do. 

You told me. you still are not sure. 
But u)c will travel life's road together. 
It's only fair before we start. 
To say. "I hope it goes on forever. " 

This poem is a poem of my feelings. 

My feelings for you have no end. 

Please when you read this 


All I want from you is . . . 


Julie Myers 

Artwork by Missy Brangan 


All Dovnhill 

Hold on Mary, Hold on tight 
Just relax, it's not bad fright 
Yes, we climb up that steep hill 
Going down, wheee, what a thrill. 
Now we take this turn real quick 
Hang on Mary, don 't get sick 
Oh, my belly spins with speed 
This is scary fun indeed. 

fiow we make a turn around 
Mow my belly can 't be found 
Underneath something we fly 
No, no Mary we won't die. 

See, we 're stopping safe but fast 
Opened up your eyes at last 
You 'II get to like these rides with us 
It 's really nice, this old school bus. 

Opinions Of Others 

See Me As I Am. Not As You See i^e. 

My mother sees me as the child she never really had. 

My father sees me as the pathetic kid that alivays made him mad. 

My mother always pictured me as being number one. 

My father always pictured me as always being dumb. 

Loue filled eyes of mother for a daughter she loues so dear. 

Confused eyes of father who never really cared. 

To father I am considered, a burden of distressed. Who one day will have the 

pleasure of removing from his nest. Mother on the other hand always at her 

best, decided she would have to find a way to deal with her little pest! 
Deep down inside, one day I shall find that my father loves me so. Ever but 

so stubborn to ever let me know! 
Father, mother, I say to thee: 

See me as I am, 

not as you see me. 

fSo matter what my parents say, 

No matter what they think. 

/Vo matter what they see. 

To me and everyone else, 

I always will be me. 

Vickie Mosby 







Photo by Mags 

:. I 

ne El